A Possible Beginning for S05E12
by VisAVis2
Summary: Chapters 1-3 Rebecca escapes and kidnaps Mozzie; Neal and Peter try to rescue him. Chapter 4 covers the lost day at the end of Episode 12, Neal's inner monolog.
1. Chapter 1

A Possible Beginning for S05E12

Previously on White Collar

Rebecca (Rachel) on phone from prison: "No threat. Just a promise. I'll see you soon."

Neal looks stunned as the scene fades.

It's night. A short bald man is lying on Neal's couch, one arm dangling down over an empty wine glass on the floor. The full moon shining through the [large] window illuminates him as he mutters in his sleep. "Bless me, Father, for I am about to…" A silent shadow crosses briefly over his sleeping form. He is instantly sitting up, wide awake.

"Wha-? It wasn't me! I was framed!"

The young woman aiming the gun at his head is gesturing for silence with her other hand. He can see only a black silhouette, but he would recognize her instantly even without the wispy mane about her head glowing red in the moonlight. Her voice is low but insistent. "Where's my diamond?"

The little man is nervous, but he puts on a brave front. "Aren't you supposed to be in an orange jumpsuit feeding on gruel a la carte?"

"My diamond, Mozzie. Tell me where it is. Now!"

The lights are still on at the Burke residence. There are boxes all around the living room and dining room. Elizabeth's removing pictures from the wall and wrapping them carefully, placing them in the open box on the dining table.

Peter stumbles in, wearing pj's and a robe. "What are you doing, hon? Come back to bed."

"I can't sleep. On such short notice I don't know who we can train to take my place at the museum. I hate leaving them in the lurch like this."

"Well, you know this was a long time coming."

"Yes, but it just didn't seem real. And now it's actually happening. And I can't stop worrying about Neal, with everything he's been going through. He's like the son we never had, and he needs someone right now."

"He's not our son, hon. He's my C.I. My *former* C.I. And he's a criminal. He has caused so much headache, so much damage, so much trouble in our lives. I even went to jail because of him."

"But won't you miss him?"

"Oh, sure, but it will also be a relief to finally not have to worry about constantly rescuing him from his own foolish mistakes."

The phone rings. Peter answers it.

"Neal. What's wrong?" (a pause) "Don't do anything. Just wait for me. I'm on my way over." He dashes out of the room, casting off his robe as he goes.

"Peter, what is it?"

He calls back over his shoulder. "Rachel's escaped, and she's got Mozzie."


	2. Chapter 2

All is dark in the Gershon Museum, but in the Mosconi reading room, a flashlight creates a circle of light on a tabletop. On the table is some blank paper; hovering over the page is a pencil in someone's hand. The rest of the person connected to the hand is less visible; he is seated at the table. Even less can be seen of the young woman standing behind him, but she is obviously lovely, if one could for a moment ignore the revolver she holds.

Mozzie looks up, annoyed. "You can stop pointing that thing at me any time now. You won't use it anyway. You need what I have in my head."

Rebecca sighs and lowers the gun. "Shut up and write down the message, Mozzie. No more games."

"I could think faster if you could bring me a sprig of rosemary." Brightening hopefully, "Or perhaps a chilled glass of perfectly aged Vosne-Romanee?"

"Just write."

"Neal will be here with the feds any minute. He'll find us. You know he will."

"Mozzie! I can still shoot your foot."

Mozzie turns back to the table and starts writing, reluctantly. "You're not getting away with this!"

In the well-lit White Collar office, the whole team is assembled. Several agents are holding cups of coffee.

Neal is pacing, slapping his hat repeatedly against his knee. "It sure would be handy if there were an anklet on Mozzie right now!"

Peter chides him. "Neal, that's not helping. Stay on task." Addressing everyone, "Rachel Turner. Where would she go? Diana, pull up all the locations she's been known to frequent. Her apartment, her safe houses, the warehouses where she met Neal in the past. Anything you can think of."

Diana turns her chair to the desk. "I'm on it, boss."

Racing to his desk, Jones calls out, "I'll pull up the cams around June's house. See if we can figure out where they went."

Neal turns to Peter. "We may not know where she is right now, but we know where she'll be headed. She needs Mozzie to lead her to the diamond. When they get where he's taking her, we'll be there."

"Yes, but how?"

"Mozzie will misdirect her, take her to someplace we're likely to intercept them. Knowing Mozzie, he may have left us a clue back at the apartment."

Jones looks up. "Peter, they took a taxi headed for downtown."

As Peter is walking towards the elevator with Neal, he calls back, "Let me know right away as soon as you find their location."

Neal and Peter enter Neal's apartment and part ways; Peter enters the kitchen while Neal searches the couch and coffee table.

Peter emerges holding a plastic card attached to a long string. "Neal, can you explain this?"

"What is it?"

"It's Rebecca's access card. The one she said she lost on the day the museum was robbed. Neal, how did it get here?"

Neal sidesteps the question. "More importantly, where did you find it?" Enters kitchen. "Down here?"

The two stoop to inspect the linoleum more closely. There appear to be particles of very pungent rotten fish which have been smashed into the floor by someone's shoe just in front of the refrigerator.

Neal gets up. "I'm thinking Bugsy would enjoy a trip to the Gershon museum." He goes out the door.

Peter is puzzled for a moment. "Who? Oh, right. June's dog." Shaking his head, he pulls out his cell phone and starts calling Jones as he hurries after Neal. 


	3. Chapter 3

The black of the sky was softening, hinting at the approach of dawn. Between a row of skyscrapers, a lone car sped. Its driver, FBI Agent Peter Burke, had once been thrilled with this shiny new car, one of the many perks that came with his recent promotion to ASAC. But that seemed so long ago now. His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as, coming out of a hard turn, he jammed down on the accelerator.

Seated beside him, thrown back slightly by the motion of the car, Neal Caffrey was conversing with the small pug in his arms who was struggling unsuccessfully to free himself.

"We're gonna get him, Bugs. You and me. We're gonna save Mozzie. Yes we are. We'll get him."

Peter was exasperated. How could Neal be so cheerful right now? "Neal, this is no joke. We need to stay focused here."

Bugsy shook his head, dislodging Neal's fedora. Neal reached out and, in one adroit motion, caught the hat, flipped it, and placed it atop his own head. "He wants us to stay focused, Bugsy. We can manage that, can't we? Oh, yes we can."

"Rachel's a killer. Aren't you worried?"

"But nothing bad will happen to Moz, will it Bugsy? Because we won't let it. And because Rachel needs his help or she'll never get the diamond."

"What's going on, Neal? Are you trying to avoid talking to me for some reason?"

Suddenly the car behind them turned on its lights and siren. It was a police patrol car.

Peter slammed the brakes. "Just what I need right now. A speeding ticket."

He is reaching for his FBI badge as the scene fades.

About half an hour later, Neal and Peter are seated in a small, semi-dark room. A departing young woman in a police uniform has just closed and locked the only door behind herself.

Peter is still a bit stunned from the recent events. "I should have realized something was up. There's usually a lot more traffic in Manhattan during the morning rush hour. How could I not notice?"

Neal shrugs. "Don't be too unkind to yourself. You were worried about Mozzie." He has freed his wrists and is busily freeing Peter's. "There's no way you could have known Rebecca could pull a stunt like that. Roadblocks, armed police impersonators... She's not only clever, she's also got impressive connections. Too bad she's a killer." He pauses wistfully, then shrugs away the thought and flashes a Caffrey smile. "Anyway, the team will be here soon."

"What? How can you be so sure?"

Neal's still smiling broadly. "Because that wasn't my anklet you cut. That was Bugsy's dog collar. I slipped it on my leg when nobody was looking."

"You mean..." Peter is beginning to smile too.

"Yes. The anklet is still tracking us. And I'm outside my radius. Help should arrive just... about..." Neal pauses to listen. Nothing out of the ordinary is happening.

But no. Neal was right. There are sounds of scuffling, running, and shouting outside the door. Shots are fired. More shouting. A key in the lock, and now light is streaming into the room. It's a welcome sight.

Neal puts on his hat and jumps to his feet. Peter hits the ground running. "Where's Rebecca?"

"We've got agents chasing her. But Mozzie is here; he's fine." Once again, good old reliable Agent Clinton Jones has shown up just in the nick of time.

"Moz. You know where she's headed?" Nick rushes to his friend, seated in a car right outside the building.

A grin appears on Mozzie's face. There may also be a slight twinkle in his eye. "Of course. The church. I told her that the message looked just like some graffiti I once saw on the back of the building years ago. And you know the old dilapidated storage shed behind the church? Some kids used to store their rock collection back there; I told the feds, and it's likely she'll still be busy searching in there when they arrive."

"And the real location?"

Mozzie taps his coat pocket significantly. "We can decipher this at our leisure after she's out of the way."


	4. Chapter 4

[Chapters 1-3 take place between S05E11 and S05E12 of White Collar. The case in Episode 12 ends at 9am Friday morning, and then almost a whole day is lost, until Saturday morning at 4:30am. Now Chapter 4 (this one) attempts to fill in some information about that lost time.]

As anticipated, Rebecca was in too much of a rush to get to the diamond first, and she had neglected to take her normal precautions. Her capture was swift and went without a hitch. Soon she was back behind bars.

Mozzie recently purchased seven new safe houses to replace the ones the FBI confiscated last year. (Long story.) Yesterday he was busy babysitting, but most of today he's been in the safe house he calls "Thursday" (so named because it's where he generally likes to spend his Fridays). He has been dividing his time between pacing the floor and staring at a sheet of paper full of curious symbols. In a brief visit to the local public library earlier, he printed out a chart of known Masonic symbols, and he has been pondering what meaning they might hold in terms of finding the Hope Diamond's lost twin.

-

Neal has been on his tracking anklet long enough now that he can stay within his legally mandated radius without paying conscious attention. This morning, leaving the FBI office, he turns off his cell phone and wanders aimlessly, trying to clear his head. He has a lot to think about.

After a bit of a walk, he finds himself absently munching a cronut as he strolls past the tall church where he and Mozzie committed a robbery in broad daylight. He can't resist pausing a moment to admire their handiwork. He remembers how Mozzie masterminded the operation, how they basically just sauntered in dressed as workmen and came back out with a 200-pound stained-glass window. He remembers how cleverly Rebecca distracted the real workmen by pretending to lose an earring. Her disarming smile, the clever little flip of her hair . . . the fact that she's actually Rachel Turner, professional assassin for hire. At this last thought, a cloud passes over his features. He could never love a cold-blooded killer. She broke his heart. Last in a trail of lost loves, she just hammers in the point that there can never be a happy ending for a person like him.

Then there's that lost diamond that Rebecca wanted to find so badly. What will he do with it once it is found?

Mozzie wants to use the diamond to fund a criminal empire. Mozzie, his loyal and indispensible genius friend, once his mentor and teacher, now needs to be protected from himself; his criminal tendencies need to be kept somewhat in check. Can Neal maintain friendship with Mozzie without being dragged back down into his former way of life?

But with the money from the diamond, he can get back on his feet, become his own man, go anywhere he wants, do anything he wants. Even disappear, maybe. Cut all ties with everyone here, including Mozzie. Start fresh.

Neal's wanderings bring him at last to the wharf. He sits silently and watches as night falls and the light of day is gradually replaced by little lights shining out from thousands of windows. Seeing the Empire State Building brings back thoughts of Sara. He smiles at the memory of her enthusiasm as she accepted his marriage proposal. Even if it was all a sham. The glass of wine they shared at the very top of the building. The thrill of seeing the dirigible flying away with Ellen's box.. . . of evidence . . . which could incriminate some very powerful people. . . who could still be hunting him.

Disappearance is sounding better and better.

Disappearing would mean leaving behind the one who has meant the most to him through it all, Peter Burke. Every time he has fled before, Peter has found him and brought him back. But would Peter chase after him again this time? Peter was once his friend, but now he has given up on Neal and is abandoning him for good. Once upon a time, Peter had given him the hope that he could turn his life around; his loss of faith has strengthened Neal's determination to prove that he can. Will Peter write a letter of recommendation for him, or will he have to find a way on his own?

Everything and everyone Neal has ever cared about is gone - all the people, all his wealth, his prospects, his freedom. Most of this is because of Peter. And now once again his future is in Peter's hands. Without Peter's recommendation, what options does he have?

There is no reason to stay. No reason to stay.

His hand reaches down to pat his new passport, a new identity he has recently obtained. And a new burner phone. Should he use them?

Ellen, if you were still here, he thinks, what would you do?

The temperature is dropping, and Neal wraps his jacket closer. Finally, his thoughts still, he sits silently observing the night.

-


End file.
